


Crooked Hearts

by Tabithian



Series: Crooked Hearts [1]
Category: DCU, DCU Animated, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's first face-to-face meeting with Jason Todd starts with a fist to the face and ends with Jason's boot on his chest, Tim's own bo staff held at his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crooked Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Erm. Based on one of my [horrible ideas.](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/tagged/Crooked-Hearts)
> 
> Small spoilers for episode 2x08, Satisfaction.

Tim's first face-to-face meeting with Jason Todd starts with a fist to the face and ends with Jason's boot on his chest, Tim's own bo staff held at his throat.

"Hello, Replacement."

Tim stares up at him, struggling for breath. "Jason?" Impossible, Jason's dead. “You're dead,” Tim wheezes.

The figure standing over him grins, sharp, dangerous. “I got better, Replacement.” 

It is Jason. Older, _angrier_ , but Tim knows who he is. How can he not, with The Case in the Batcave and the monument to him at Mount Justice? All those nights spent following Batman and Robin?

Jason sneers, pressing down a little harder on Tim's chest. Tim's hands coming up to try to move it, to get free, but Jason's bigger, stronger, and he has leverage Tim doesn't. 

"Pathetic, Replacement," he says, and there's Dick's voice somewhere off in the distance.

Jason laughs, and lifts his foot from Tim's chest, taking a step back. He turns to watch Dick drawing closer, and glances back down at Tim. 

"See you soon, Replacement," he says with a smirk. He aims a kick at Tim, but Tim's already moving, rolling away from it. 

Tim hears Jason's laughter as he takes off with Tim's bo staff, and Dick's worried, "Robin! Robin!" in his ears as he lays there sucking in air and trying to think because - 

"Jason," he says, when Dick kneels next to him, checking for injuries. "Dick, it was Jason."

********

Bruce and the others go into lock-down mode after that. Tim isn’t allowed out as Robin without Bruce, Dick, or Barbara with him on patrol or with the team. And Alfred takes him to and from school, from Tim's house to the manor for patrol or missions with the team.

"This isn't really necessary," Tim tries, when Bruce charms Tim's parents into having Tim stay at the manor while they're gone on another trip.

Dick ruffles Tim's hair and slips Tim's bag onto his own shoulder. He's trying for normal, but his eyes linger on the bruising on the side of Tim's face and neck. (Tim had explained it away as an accident during P.E., and his parents had accepted it easily enough.)

"It'll be great, Timmy. Sleepover at the manor. I bet we can get Bruce to tell ghost stories."

Tim feels a thread of unease because Bruce's ghost stories have actual ghosts in them. The kind that like to rend the flesh from the bones of the still-living because of Gotham and Jason Blood. 

"Uh - "

"It's going to be a blast!"

Tim shakes his head and follows Dick because there's not much he can say that will change Dick's mind on that matter. 

********

Tim's on a mission with the team when everything goes pear-shaped on them.

"I didn't do it!" Bart yells, preemptive, sweeping Jaime out of the way of a flying sentry that almost takes off both their heads with its lasers.

Dick's crouched at the other end of the room and Tim is tucked behind a statue, trying to find a safe route back to Dick's side. Conner's tearing into another sentry, shielded by fallen masonry and this is officially the worst mission yet.

There's a burst of static over the comms, and then _Jason_. 

"So you guys might not know this, but the floor in the room you snuck in through? Weight sensitive. They know you’re there and they have robots with lasers. Just thought you'd like to know."

Tim can see Conner freeze at Jason's voice. Jaime gives Bart a confused look and Bart has the same look on his face when he accidentally revealed Dick and Tim's names, and Dick.

"Thanks for the head's up, Jason! Real helpful," Dick snaps because not really.

Jason just laughs.

********

After that. Things get...strange.

Stranger?

Jason doesn't make a move against any of them past his initial attack on Tim, and looking back on it, Tim's not really sure what that was, really. If Jason had wanted to kill him, he could have done so easily before Dick had appeared, but for whatever reason, he hadn't. (It was almost like he was testing Tim, which. _Why?_ )

No one sees him, but they hear him. _All the time._

When Dick's chatting with a team member during a training session and Jason interrupts with a story about Dick's horrendous habits and Dick's outraged _face_. 

 

_"You sure about this, sweetheart? Dickiebird's not the great catch he'd have you believe."_

_"Jason!"_

 

Jason's not-so-helpful commentary while they're on missions, pointing out the ways their intel failed them.

 

_“Hey, so. Lasers. Also mutant dog-things. Look out for those.”_

_"Big help there, Jason! Maybe you could tell us before they try to kill us next time!"_

_"Why would I do that, Dick? This is so much more entertaining."_

 

Try as he might, Bruce can't pin down where Jason is, where he's set up his base of operations. And the longer it goes on, Jason butting in to annoy them or make fun of them or just make their lives harder than they already are, the more they get used to it. 

"It's Jason," Dick says one night, looking as baffled about it as Tim feels. "He's always been special."

"Fuck you too, Dick," Jason says, sounding amused.

Dick shrugs at Tim and signals for him to take the burglar on the left while he goes for the one on the right, and Tim. Tim goes along with it because if nothing else in their lives is normal, why should this be any different?

********

Tim's had many reasons to question his right to be Robin. He's not Dick, he's not Jason. He's just a skinny little kid with an obsessive streak who put two and two together and got a hell of a lot more than he bargained for. 

He's not special really, in the grander scheme of things. Give anyone the information he'd had and they could have done the same. Not special, just. Something. 

And now that something's gotten him captured like a damsel in distress left to rot where the team can't find him, and it's just been an overall terrible day.

"Hey, Replacement."

So of course Jason decides it's as good a time as any to poke his nose in and probably rub in what a terrible Robin Tim is.

Tim opens his eyes even though there's not much to see where he is. No light, just cold stone and dripping water and he's not really sure where he is anymore. His entire body hurts and there's a persistent ache in his leg that won't support his weight and he's sorry he wasn't a better Robin, sorry that Bruce and the others are going to have to add another Case, another monument.

His utility belt's missing, but somehow he still has his comm, which. Either good or bad, depending. Jason's feeling chatty.

"Jason?"

"Lucky you, huh, Replacement?"

He doesn't sound angry, and Tim's too tired to wonder why, exactly. 

"What - "

"“Did Daddy Bats ever tell you how I got the job?” 

Tim tries to think, but he's sure the answers a definite _no_. Bruce had been so angry when Tim finally had the courage to go to him, to tell him why he needed a Robin (did he?) and the subject of Jason had been. 

Fraught, was one way to put it. 

Jason was a warning, _this could happen to you too, do you really think Batman needs a Robin that badly?_ He was _this could happen to you too, do you want to take that chance, that risk?_ and Tim had bulled past that - all of that - because _yes_ Batman needed a Robin that badly. _Bruce_ needed one that badly. And yes. Tim knew it could happen to him, but some things were bigger than him, than both of them. Some thing were worth that risk. (And look where it got him.)

"No," Tim says, slow, careful. He has to concentrate to get the word out, and that's probably not a good sign, really.

"Yeah," Jason says, thoughtful. "Not too surprising with him. You have a few minutes?"

That makes Tim smile, mouth curving slightly because he has nothing but time at the moment.

"I thought you hated me," Tim says. Isn't that what the attack had been about? Calling Tim Replacement? 

Jason snorts. "Hate you? No. Loathe you? Now there's a good way to put it." He huffs, irritated. “You want to hear this or not, Replacement?”

"Sure," Tim says, "Why not?"

Jason sighs, like Tim's being a pain in his ass again and, "You fucking fall asleep on me, I'll kill you myself, Replacement."

"No promises," Tim says, and closes his eyes to listen as Jason tells him about being a snot-nosed little bastard who thought he could get away with stealing the Batmobile's tires.

"Seriously?" Tim asks, because really? Who does something like that?

"Fuck you, _yes_ , seriously," Jason snaps. There's a crackle of static, but Tim doesn't pay attention to it as Jason continues speaking. "And I would have gotten away with it too - "

" - If it weren't for those pesky kids and their dog," Dick breaks in, sounding equal part amused and relieved. 

"Dick?"

"Hang on, Tim, we're coming," Dick says, warm, reassuring. 

"Hey," Jason says. "I wasn't done with the story, asshole."

Dick laughs. "Sorry, little wing."

Jason snorts and Tim. Breathes a little easier listening to them bicker, Bruce's deeper voice joining in as they co-ordinate, knowing Dick and Bruce and the team are coming for him, that there won't be a new Case, a new monument this time.

He follows orders when when Jason and Dick tell him to cover his face and head, and there's a muffled explosion before part of the ceiling comes down, crumbling stone and dust and dim light cutting through the darkness. 

“Easy, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, and a moment later the bright beam of light from one of their flashlights hits him, too bright, and Tim covers his face with his arm.

The light moves away from his face and Tim lowers his arm, relief surging through him when Bruce and Dick drop through the hole the ceiling and make their way towards him.

Through it all Jason keeps talking, a low soothing voice in Tim's ear as Bruce and Dick assess the situation.

Tim blinks at Bruce as he sits back on his heels and sighs, deeply aggrieved. “I'd like it if the tires would _stay_ on the Batmobile for once." He looks at Tim, corner of his mouth curving slightly. "Someone stole them just the other night,” he explains.

Jason comes back with, "Well maybe if someone would stop parking the damn thing in Crime Alley shit like that wouldn’t happen, okay?”

Dick snorts out a laugh, and Tim can feel an answering smile on his own face. 

"We'll talk abut this later," Bruce promises. "We need to get Robin out of here."

Jason mutters something Tim doesn't quite catch, and then, "See you soon, Replacement."

This time, it's less of a threat, and more of a promise.

********

Jason goes quiet after that, which would be worrying, if Tim didn't know he was still monitoring them. He catches glimpses of him from time to time on patrol in Gotham, moonlight hitting the bright red of his helmet just so, a shadow skulking at the corner of his eye, but never comes closer, always keeps his distance. 

And then Christmas rolls around.

"Oh my God, this is beautiful," Dick says, staring at the stack of tires topped of with a perfect red bow.

Bruce splits his time between glaring at the tires and looking sidelong at Alfred who is, as always, the picture of a proper British butler and not at all anything like a co-conspirator.

"Quite a thoughtful gift, is it not, Master Bruce? Immensely practical as well, seeing as you have been replacing the tires on the Batmobile at a frankly alarming rate these past few months."

Dick chokes back a laugh and Tim covers his face with one of his hands and tries not to laugh. (His bo staff, the one Jason had taken off him so many months ago is held tight in his other hand, bright red ribbon tangled in his fingers.)

"Indeed," Bruce answers, but there's the faintest hint of a smile on his face and. 

Maybe, maybe, this is the start of something.


End file.
